Something Went Right At L(e)ast
by vapourtrailreads
Summary: [AU] One cold night, Amelia gets an unexpected visitor. Written for QLFC Round 10


A/N:

lol what is this scrap

**Something Went Right At L(e)ast**

It was cold. Colder than usual, but Amelia doubted that things were ever going back to the way they usually were. Or had been.

She sipped at her Gillywater and scribbled her signature on another document, then tossed it onto the sofa beside her. Now that the return of He Who Must Not Be Named was a reality—in truth, Amelia had always known it was only a matter of time—her counterparts from the various Ministries across the world had been swamping her with messages of fear, accusation, solidarity, coming in any and every form of wizarding communication. So much that she'd decided to disconnect her fireplace from the Floo Network and stick to owl post.

The doorbell rang, and her hand jerked, Gillywater sloshing onto the front of her sweater. Amelia cursed softly and made for the door, vanishing the mess on her front.

She held her breath, wand at the ready behind her back—one could never be too careful, right?—and twisted the doorknob.

The door fell open.

Amelia's jaw followed a second later.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

Sybill Trelawney knotted up her scarf in her thin hands. "Well, they told me your Floo was down, so I Apparated to the park near your house and walked—"

"No, that's not—that's not it," Amelia managed, swallowing hard. "Why… why are you here?"

"I had to," Sybill replied. No further explanation, just a statement of intent and expectation.

As always.

"Sybill," Amelia muttered, rifling frantically through her mind for a suitable excuse. "Be reasonable, don't you have lessons or—or something—"

Something flashed in Sybill's face. "Being reasonable is boring," she said, her expression going hard. "You said that to me once, didn't you? Remember?"

Oh, Amelia remembered, alright. Along with a ton of other things that made her want to wad her hair up and shove it down her throat. Her cheeks felt warm. She swallowed.

Sybill stuck a long finger under her knitted headband, pulling out wispy hazel curls from beneath it. "At any rate, I need to be here tonight. I've seen it."

Amelia worried at her lip. She'd heard the rumours about the true extent (or lack thereof) of Sybill's ability —who hadn't? But she had always thought that Divination was always meant to be taken with a pinch of salt. And something in Sybill's tone…

"Alright," she said, opening the door wider, and Sybill floated past her into the living room, making herself at home on the sofa where Amelia had been sitting no more than three minutes ago.

"I'll—get you a drink," Amelia said, mostly to fill the empty, cumbersome silence hanging between them. "Sherry?"

Sybill nodded, and Amelia hurried off into the kitchen.

When she returned, Sybill was looking intently at the terracotta vase on the coffee table.

"My mother gave me that when I graduated," Amelia said, by way of explanation. She set the sherry glass down on the table and sat on the sofa, careful to place distance between them.

"That's a gladiolus," said Sybill, obviously not listening, as usual. She traced the flaking pink paint with her gaze. "It symbolises strength and moral integrity, doesn't it?"

Amelia nodded.

"It was your favourite," Sybill went on. "I remember."

Amelia's pulse tripped. "You do?"

"Of course."

"They're coming soon," Sybill said. "We should leave before they arrive."

"What? Who—"

Amelia's wand flew across the room as the door slammed open. She barely had time to cry out before Sybill's wand left her hand, and her wrists and ankles slammed together painfully, bound by rough ropes conjured from nothing.

"You're early," Sybill said, a crease appearing between her eyes.

Selwyn scoffed at her, and Amelia found that amidst the shock and growing dread, she still had it in her to feel indignant.

"How convenient," Selwyn drawled, lips curling cruelly. "Killing two birds with one stone… that's sure to please the Lord."

"What? What's going on?" Amelia strained against the ropes around her wrists, gritting her teeth as the threads chafed against her skin.

"A few months ago, the only copy of the Prophecy was destroyed," Selwyn said, toying with Amelia's wand as he paced before the dying fireplace. "I'm sure you're aware, what with you being Head of _Magical Law Enforcement_—" he spat the three words with such disgust that Amelia shuddered, "—and working high-up for the Ministry and all. Which, for the record, is why I'm here today."

The pieces of the puzzle clicked in her mind. "You're here to kill me," she breathed. "Let her go, then, this doesn't concern her."

Sybill's head swivelled around to face her, a knowing horror on her face. "Lia—"

"Ah-ah." Selwyn wiggled Amelia's wand in a gesture of refutation. "I'm not finished. See, the Prophecy may have been destroyed, but the prophetess is still alive, is she not?" He turned to look at Sybill, who went white. "Aren't you, Miss Trelawney?"

_No. No, no, no. _"You—" Amelia began.

Pain zigzagged through her body jerkily, urgently, like a frantic wave of scuttling spiders, and she toppled sideways, her jaw going numb from screaming. Was it her screaming? Or was it Sybill? She couldn't really tell, the pain was clouding her senses, she couldn't hear, couldn't breathe, couldn't—

"You know, they say that for an Unforgivable Curse to work, the caster has to mean it?" Even through the agony, the dark pleasure in Selwyn's expression was clear as he towered over her with a scythe-like leer on his face. He never used to be that tall. Or maybe it was because she was on the floor now and he was standing up and she could see his teeth, sharp and small and slightly yellow, and behind him, Sybill struggling to her feet—

She stared, then writhed on the floor, shuffling backwards over the carpet with her eyes fixed on the wand pointed at her.

Selwyn's mouth shaped the Cruciatus Curse again, and out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of a familiar pink flower on a backdrop of earthy brown hurtling through the air.

The vase shattered loudly against Selwyn's temple. _Sorry, Mum. _Amelia winced as the Death Eater let out a strangled cry and crumpled onto the carpet, blood beginning to bead at the tiny cuts caused by the shards.

Sybill dropped to her knees beside Selwyn and grabbed Amelia's wand from his limp hand. "_Emancipare._"

The ropes fell away from their wrists and legs, and Sybill scrambled over to Amelia on her hands and knees. "Lia? Lia, are you—"

"I'm fine," Amelia said, or rasped, rather. She eased onto her elbows, willing her muscles not to give in to the pain. She wouldn't let Sybill see that it hurt. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," Sybill answered. "I'm sorry about the vase, but I—"

"It's alright."

Sybill cast her eyes down, and Amelia found herself doing something she'd promised not to.

"It's late," she said. "I… I have a guest room? Down the corridor? And you—you could stay. If you wanted. Because it's getting late. And—and I—I don't think it's safe for y—for either of us to—to go out right now." She twisted her fingers together, fixing her gaze on the carpet. "Unless you—"

"Lia," Sybill interrupted. "I'd love to."

Amelia's heart just about stopped there and then.

"I—I know that we… haven't seen each other in a while, and I—" Sybill stuttered, "I came because I saw what was going to happen, and I couldn't just—let it happen," she broke off. "I… I missed you."

Amelia's mouth felt dry. "You did?"

Sybill nodded, not looking at her.

Well... that was a start. "Come on, then."

Tentatively, she reached for Sybill's hand and hooked her fingers around her wrist, pulling her to her feet when it became clear she wouldn't pull away.

And Amelia couldn't help but think, even though the world was on the brink of collapse, at least something was going right at last.

_XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX_

Team: Appleby Arrows

CHASER 1: **Save Them: Amelia Bones**

OPTIONAL PROMPTS:

#3: (object) vase

#5: (dialogue) "Being reasonable is boring."

#9: (spell) Crucio

Word Count: 1322


End file.
